


Receipt Tape Poetry

by VaxildanVessar



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Poetry, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaxildanVessar/pseuds/VaxildanVessar
Summary: Just a collection of some of my poetry and short, free form essays.Trigger warnings are at the start of each entry as notes.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Oil & Water

Adults described love like weightlessness  
A floating sensation where your feet never touch the ground  
Flying higher and higher still  
Until you are among the clouds

Adults described love like butterflies  
A chaos inside your stomach and head  
All flittering around, bumping into each other  
And just waiting to burst out

Adults described love like dizziness  
A child spinning too fast with arms outstretched  
Whirling until they cannot see straight  
Then falling, always falling

Adults described love like jigsaw puzzles  
A piece always matching perfectly with another piece  
It never mattered if you started with the edges or the center  
You could always step back to admire a masterpiece

Adults described love like light  
A previously unknown warmth filling your heart  
Radiating energy out of ever orifice  
Burning hotter and brighter than any star

But that was not my experience with love  
I had never tumbled nor flown  
I only saw butterflies in gardens and jigsaw puzzles in shop windows  
And no one ever described me as a star

To me, love was oil and water  
A simple child’s toy  
Where the colourful oil bubbles run through a maze  
Where the child ultimately shakes it into a frothy mess

But when the oil and water are completely still  
That was the love I knew  
Two entities, both alike and not  
Somehow both together and apart

I didn’t want weightlessness  
Give me something with gravity  
An anchor to keep my feet on the ground  
I never wanted to fly away from you

I didn’t want butterflies  
I was comfortable in my form  
And I couldn’t bare to share this shell  
With anyone other than you

I didn’t want dizziness  
In those moments I craved sobriety  
To feel you body, mind, and soul  
Everything as it should have been

I didn’t want jigsaw puzzles  
We were two too different people  
Whole with or without each other  
And there is no fun in perfection

I didn’t want light  
At least not all the time  
I wanted your dark and moody  
The cold with the warmth and everything in between

Which left us with oil and water  
In a perfect balance between two dichotomies  
Neither overshadowing the other  
Not expecting the other to be what they were not

But oil and water repel each other  
They never combine, no matter how hard you shake the glass  
It took me a long time to realise  
That is ok

First love is never easy  
Trapped somewhere between adult and child  
But I’m glad we saw through it together  
You, my oil, and I, your water

It may not have been glamorous  
Or what we dreamed of in childhood  
But it was what we needed then  
And in its imperfections, it was perfect


	2. Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: homophobia, religion (Christianity)

I was once told,  
“I can’t wear rainbow anymore  
Because you people  
Took it away from us.”

My first thought was confusion.  
Who gave me and mine this superpower?  
And if we had this great power,  
Why would we use it for something so trivial?

My second thought was anger.  
It’s a color spectrum.  
We did not take it  
From you or any other bigot. 

My third thought was sadness.  
How tragically small you must be  
That the worst thing you can think of  
Is to be confused with one like me. 

Rainbows are God’s promise  
To everyone on Earth;  
Against great destruction  
And as a testament to love. 

Rainbows are our promise  
To everyone on Earth;  
Against living in the shadows  
And as a testament to love. 

So you do not have to wear rainbow  
If love is so conditional to you.  
Just know that you have my pity  
And I will continue to pray for you. 

As for me, I will wear my rainbow  
Because of the promises God gave me;  
That He loves me the way He made me  
And that love is stronger than anything.


	3. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: religion (Catholicism)

I didn’t find God inside the church  
Repeating chants as old as time  
Words I only pretended to understand  
And Masses that never kept my attention

I found God in a rec room  
On couches older than all of us combined  
Cracking jokes and talking  
But mostly listening 

I didn’t find God in the monastery  
Mandatory solemn silences as  
Cold and echoing as the linoleum floor  
Dust thicker than the Bible’s spine

I found God on a mountainside  
Foot catching a loose rock, sliding  
An outstretched hand catching mine  
And pulling me up

I didn’t find God in the sermons  
How could I when my eyes couldn’t stay open  
Stuffy old unmarried childless white men  
With no clue how to connect to me

I found God in a children’s Bible  
Learning the words by heart through tape  
Picturing the characters like a movie  
Discovering the hope between the lines

I didn’t find God in the classrooms  
Too mysterious concepts in too small desks  
Endless workbooks written by the out of touch  
As the world spun outside the barred windows

I found God on a stage  
A handmade costume worn by hundreds before  
Diving barefooted into who they were  
Why we remember

I didn’t find God in the hierarchy  
The youth leader’s condemnation  
The nun’s stern looks and sterner words  
The pastor’s anger

I found God in a church parking lot  
In beat up used cars  
Playing music and swapping stories  
Looking at the stars from atop dented hoods

I was raised in the Church  
Like many people I grew up with  
But unlike most of my friends  
I stayed

I don’t know why it happened that way  
That they would leave while I chose to stay  
But I hope they find what they were looking for  
And I’m so grateful God found me


	4. A320

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attacks, aviophobia, religion, alcohol

I’m watching the flight attendant  
Pantomiming what do if oxygen masks fall  
Thank God I’m sitting  
Or I’d drop faster than those useless masks  
I’ve already read the emergency guide  
Three times  
I’ve memorised the number of rows to the nearest exits  
They’re eight forward and four back

Every muscle in my body is coiled tight  
Like a spring about to be sprung  
About to explode  
Oh God  
Please don’t let this tin can explode  
I’m too young to die  
I have so much left to do  
I haven’t even been kissed yet

The plane lurches  
Crap crap crap  
My hands are cold and clammy  
Clenched so hard my nails dig into my flesh  
The tops of my knuckles a ghostly white  
I can’t swallow  
My throat has gone dry  
Like all my spit just went to my palms

A baby behind me starts crying  
They don’t like the noise  
Me too, kid  
Rocket is in the storage compartment  
Buried among my underpants above me  
I’m twenty-five and don’t need a stuffed animal  
Spoiler alert:  
I’m lying

If God had intended us to fly  
He’d’ve given us wings  
And I wouldn’t be locked  
Inside this rusty rumbling sky cupboard  
But here I am  
Because work wouldn’t give me more than three days  
For this funeral  
So I couldn’t drive

We’re approaching the runway  
Goddamnit goddamnit goddamnit  
Wait, I just took the Lord’s name in vain  
I can’t die with a mortal sin  
How many Hail Marys do I need to do?  
Do I have time?  
Do I need a priest?  
Of course Father Sean is on the next flight

My hands transfer from clenching themselves  
The momentary release of tension  
Sending me into a panicked downward spiral  
A tailspin  
Oh God  
No tailspins  
No falling  
No crashing

The left hand clutches my knee  
Which will definitely leave a bruise  
The right hand clutches my necklace holding a die  
My lucky D20 of crossed raven feather and dagger  
The solid weight grants me a brief moment of clarity:  
The irony the dice represents a hero who can fly  
But before I can exhale  
Panic grabs my brain again

We’re really gaining speed now  
Shit shit shit  
Why did I agree to this?  
I’m going to die here and now  
I mean I’m not this biggest fan  
Of where my life is at the moment  
But I don’t want to go out like this  
On an over-glorified flying bus

The terror increases  
It feels like everything is simultaneously too fast and too slow  
Like the plane itself  
Getting faster and faster down the tarmac  
But still too slow to leave land  
The engines’ roar  
Drowns out all but my dread

I don’t know where to look  
If I look in the cabin, all I see is everything shaking  
Like this whole plane is all going to fall apart  
I can’t close my eyes  
Because then everything seems louder and I get dizzy  
So I decide to look out the window  
Although the speed at which everything moves past is terrible  
It helps the claustrophobia

The wheels leave the ground  
Fuck fuck fuck  
I’d puke  
If my stomach wasn’t in my toes  
The force of the upward pull  
Makes me feel like I’m spinning  
Like the worst carnival ride  
Held together by duct tape and prayers

LA grows smaller out the window  
We’re still climbing higher and higher  
I see the choppy waves of the Pacific  
Cargo ships look like bathtub toys  
What are we supposed to do in a water landing again?  
Where’s my life jacket?  
The plane lurches  
Hitting a fog bank

Seconds seem like hours  
Sometimes it feels like we’re falling  
Until we’re not  
Climbing again so sharply  
I feel my body press into the seat  
Leaving a permanent indentation of myself  
Here lies me  
A monument to mankind’s flying folly

The captain speaks  
Breathe breathe breathe  
The plane has hit 35,000 feet  
And the climbing has stopped  
And the dropping  
For the time being  
But I still can’t find  
A breath

I look out the window  
And I see the clouds  
Side by side with me  
Not unlike the ground seven miles below  
As a child my mom told me  
My big brother lived up here  
Because how can you explain  
The death of a child to another?

I think of my brothers  
My body slowly unclenches  
From my toes up  
Ending with my fingers and my jaw  
I take my first deep breath  
And await drink service  
Because I’m going to need whiskey  
If I’m going to make it through the landing


	5. My Hero Calls Me Kool-Aid Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Haiku? Drunk Haiku.

In the beforetimes  
We would drink and laugh and hug  
I miss your advice


	6. Rubies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: depression, anxiety, cutting, suicidal thoughts  
> Don’t worry, I’m in a good place now. This was just written when I wasn’t. But it’s part of who I am and my story. Unedited and unapologetic.  
> If you or someone you know is feeling suicidal, please call 1-800-273-8255. You are loved and there are people who will listen.

You.  
Yes, you.  
The person on the other side of this screen.  
Hi.  
What’s your name?  
That’s nice.  
My name doesn’t matter. 

Hey, can you do me a favor?  
Convince me not to go into the bathroom and slit myself open. 

It seems like it’d be nice.  
Slowly drawing a blade across pale flesh  
Watching it separate as a thin red line appears.  
Drop by drop, drip by drip,  
Dancing rubies.  
And there will be so many  
I’ll be the richest one of all.  
I’ll take my rubies  
And smear them across the porcelain tub,  
Maybe trace some designs in them,  
As my consciousness slowly dims,  
And I float into oblivion;  
A comforting darkness.  
An embracing nothingness. 

I haven’t cut myself since I was thirteen or maybe fourteen.  
I felt too much then.  
It was so intense, I didn’t know what to do.  
I had what I now realise was unchecked anxiety that no one wanted to acknowledge.  
Because other people had such bigger problems.  
So in a spur of the moment decision in the dead of night, I dragged a dull pocketknife over my left wrist to an Offspring record.  
One, two, three times.  
If I’m being honest, they were less slices and more long paper cuts.  
But the intent was still there.  
Immediately after, mortified at what I’d done, I ran into the bathroom and poured foundation over them to see if I could cover them up.  
I only managed to cause stinging and a mild allergic reaction.  
I wore a big bandage over them at school the next day.  
I had a whole cover story, that I tripped and skinned my wrist trying to catch myself on a low-lying brick wall next to school.  
But no one ever asked me.  
Not a teacher. Not a friend. Not a parent.  
Because who would ever suspect the chubby funny kid  
Had tried to make themself hurt under a moonless sky  
Because everything felt too much. 

I don’t feel much at all these days.  
I think it’s my brain’s way of setting up a wall to protect myself.  
Because in reality I’m feeling too much.  
The anxiety. The depression. The mania. The anger. The sadness. The frustration. The fear.  
The hopelessness.  
But sometimes that wall cracks  
And I feel everything again.  
Like now.  
And all I can think of is how I recently sharpened all of the knives in the kitchen  
And that they’re just sitting there on the counter.  
Or that my pocket knife is in my glove box  
And I could drive somewhere no one could find me.

So I’m asking you.  
Yes, you.  
The person on the other side of this screen.  
Convince me.


	7. You Weren’t There

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: emotional abuse, childhood trauma, parental relationships
> 
> Found this one while going through some old stuff. I would estimate I wrote it sometime in early college.

I was only seven when you changed. 

When you weren't there, I had to find other role models in my life.  
I don't mean you were physically absent. Sometimes I think that would have been better. What was missing was far worse. 

When Mom asked if I blamed her for marrying you, I found myself wishing for the millionth time that her best friend was my dad. 

When you made fun of me at the hospital, the last thing my grandfather did for me was hold my hand and silence you. 

When I got t-boned, you screamed and yelled at the lady who hit me. You accused her of hurting your baby. I tried to calm you down, but you started kicking things. Deep down, I was happy, because I thought you were worried about me. Then you mentioned my car was your baby. You didn't check on me. Even the insurance lady was aghast. 

You don't even know my birthday. 

When you told me I was a mistake. I don't have anything more to say. The shock, disbelief, and utter pain and loss from a parent telling their child they are a mistake is too hard to quite grasp. It feels like suffocating while having your chest stabbed to find nothing but hollow emptiness in your heart. 

It frustrates me to admit after twenty years I've learned something from you. I learned how to be a good human in a painful way. I just need to do everything you didn't. 

When your eldest son ran his car into a fence, I didn't throw things and blame him. I helped him check the damage and told him I did worse when I ripped off the van's bumper on a bridge.

When your youngest son was being tortured by bullies at school, I didn't torment him at home for being too weak to stick up for himself. I told him there are crappy people in the world and he was the stronger man by not throwing the punch. 

When you make your sons feel less than human, which you do in more ways than you could realize, you leave damage in your wake like a tsunami. I stay behind, too often buffeted by the waves too, in order to remind them they are loved and they are worth something. Because heaven knows you never do that. 

Your youngest child says its because you never loved us. Your middle child hurts too much and is too scared to ever say anything, but his eyes tell the story. Your wife says something changed and she doesn't understand where it all went wrong. Your mother-in-law says it's because you're angry at something that happened long ago and it has only festered like an untreated wound as time passed. And as for me, I simply don't give a damn anymore. 

I have plans for my future. Plans of starting a career, traveling the world, falling in love, getting married, and having a family. Plans that do not involve you. 

When my kids cry, I'll hold them. When they skin their knee, I'll kiss it. If they make a mistake, I'll forgive them. When they share something important, I'll remember the happiness in their eyes. And I will make sure they never feel anything but love. I will treat them like the precious humans they are. The way I felt when you weren't there. Because your body was always there. But what you could have been was gone. 

Occasionally I feel sorry for you that, if there is love somewhere deep inside, that you were never able to show it.

You're going to be sorry one day when you realised you fucked up on having a relationship with me. And maybe you'll figure out someday and call to try to apologise, though I doubt you'll ever admit to being wrong. I'll have the satisfaction of getting to laugh at you, say too little too late, tell you to fuck off, and hang up.

And in that moment I hope you feel the way I have felt for the last 13 years.


	8. AutoFill

I have a lot to say to you  
But I don’t think I’ll ever get to it. 

Get through the night.  
I’ll let you know if I get there too. 

I’ll be home soon.   
I’ll be home.


End file.
